


Creatures of Habit

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2019-09-07 06:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: You have a regular customer who catches your attention, so you gather your courage and take the first step.





	Creatures of Habit

_[(pic not mine)](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F211739619954699626%2F&t=YzA0NDkxZjFhOGE2MjI2YjkzNDQ5YjNiNjA2MjNjYzVmNTBlYjMwZixXekNoOHJXMQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ATBB28Mk-OlOvilVc6dAilQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fjust-another-busy-fangirl.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F156191358571%2Fcreatures-of-habit&m=1) _

Ah, small-town Kansas. How boring your life was.  Sure, you’d gone to college, but once your mom got sick, you were back in Lebanon and to your old life.

Your old life, that is if that meant working two part-time jobs, spending all of your free time at your parent’s house, not able to have any life to yourself.

You actually really enjoyed one of your jobs: the library.  You spent hours re-shelving books, checking books out to customers, and reading as much as possible in the in-between times.  It was nice, and it kept your mind sharp.  You figure that eventually, you’ll get out of Lebanon again, maybe go back to school for your masters.  Reading everything at the library kept that hope alive.

Your other job, you didn’t enjoy quite so much.  You were a cashier at the local grocery store.  It was a job of convenience: you needed another source of income, and the owner was an old friend of your parents.  He was looking for help, you needed a job…here you were.

The good thing was that you only worked three-hour shifts at the grocery store: 5-8 am, five days a week. It helped kick-start your days, there was free coffee for you every morning, and then you’d leave and do whatever you needed to do for the rest of the day.

You also were able to read a bit when there were no customers.

So here you were, re-reading  _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , sitting at your stool at the check out.  The bell on the front door rang, and you hollered a “Hello” to the customer as he came in.  You looked up to see a man in workout clothes: gym shorts and a tank top, earbuds in his ears.  He had long shaggy hair that was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and it had to be one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen.  He nodded at you, heading to the refrigerator right next to you at the check out as you set your book upside-down on the counter to hold your place.

The man grabbed a blue Gatorade, putting it down on the counter and pulling out a clip of cash. He put two dollars on the counter and said nicely, “Keep the change,” before opening the bottle and taking a long gulp on his way out.  “And enjoy that book!”

“Thank you, come again!” your voice sounded weak as it followed after him, but it was all you could say to him.  You hoped you’d see the handsome man again.

Your hope came true when the next day, the same situation played out.  Around the same time, the man came in to the store, grabbed a Gatorade, and put down two dollars.  This time he tugged one earbud out of his ear, and you faintly heard some sort of rock music.

“You like your book?” he asked, as you opened the cash register.

You smiled a half-smile, glad he started a conversation today.  “ _To Kill a Mockingbird_  is one of my favorites,” you replied, and he nodded.  You offered him his change, but he shook his head.

“Don’t want jingling pockets, keep it,” he said, as he headed out the door, chugging Gatorade as he began running down the street.  You set the change to the side like you did yesterday, eyes watching the man until he disappeared around the corner.

This pattern continued, with the handsome jogger coming into the store on most days, picking up a blue Gatorade, giving you two dollars and telling you to keep the change.  Most of the time he had some comment on the book you were reading.  Once you finished  _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , you were reading  _The Great Gatsby_ , then  _Frankenstein_.  He seemed to be entertained by the fact that you were reading  _Frankenstein_ , but you weren’t quite sure why.

Eventually you learned that his name was Sam, and he lived somewhere nearby.  He went out of town on business sometimes, but always liked starting his day with a run when he was home.

It was a few weeks after your first encounter with Sam, when you had just begun reading  _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ , that he started up a new conversation.

“So why do you work here, instead of somewhere more interesting?” he said one morning, pulling his money clip out of his pocket.

You held your hand out to stop him.  “First of all, your little pile of change here will pay for your Gatorade today,” you said, counting the coins from your ‘Sam fund’ you had been collecting of all of his change.  “Second of all,” you continued, once he relented and opened his drink.  “I’m here helping my parents out, and have a couple odd jobs.  Just how life goes, sometimes.”

Sam nodded, understanding in his eyes.  “I get doing whatever it takes for family,” he said as he started toward the door. “Oh, and know that Dorothy isn’t written quite right in that book there,” he shot over his shoulder with a grin. You watched him, confused, as he ran away, wondering what he meant by that.

You didn’t see Sam for a few days, assuming that he was on another business trip.  While he was gone, you worked your way through  _Oz_ , reading all of the books in the series. The whole time, Sam’s words about Dorothy were turning about in your head, and you read the books with a more critical eye than normal.

As time went by, you also noticed that no one else seemed to buy blue Gatorade.  It was as if Sam was the only one in all of Lebanon who drank the drink, and it began to give you an idea.

Sam was an attractive man, you were single.  He was nice to you, maybe the two of you could see each other outside of your morning Gatorade and literary encounters?

The first morning Sam was back in town helped you make your decision.  After missing him (how could you miss a man you barely knew?), it was a bit ridiculous how your stomach twisted and turned when his hazel-green eyes met yours. You went through your normal pleasantries, and he was gone quicker than you wanted.

At that moment, you gathered all of your courage and picked up a pen.  You found a small piece of paper in the drawer at the counter, scratching a note onto it.  When you were satisfied, you went to the refrigerator Sam always used, taping the note to the back of the next blue Gatorade bottle.

Mission accomplished, you went on with the remainder of your day as normal, heart only racing with nervousness for a moment each time your mind flitted back to the note.

The next morning, you couldn’t sit still at the store.  You ended up cleaning more sections of the store during your shift than you usually did, not being able to sit still at the counter and just read.  You heard when Sam opened the front door, hollering a (hopefully not too nervous-sounding) “Hello” from where you were toward the back.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam’s voice carried from the front, and your hands on the broom froze as you heard him open the refrigerator.  You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you heard a small chuckle from Sam, the sound warming your belly.

“Oh, Y/N,” Sam sang-spoke, and you listened as you heard his sneakers squeaking on the floor.  You looked up as he came to the end of the aisle you were on, meeting his smile with a nervous one of your own.

He held his blue Gatorade in his hand, reading the note to you as if you didn’t know what it said. “Like the Lion, I’m gathering my courage.  You remind me of my library books, because I enjoy checking you out.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes as a blush warmed your cheeks.

“Did you write this for me, Y/N?” Sam seemed to be teasing, as he took a few steps toward you, smiling. You shrugged, continuing to sweep as if your embarrassment would make Sam disappear.  When Sam was close enough, he put a hand on yours, stilling the broom.

“Right back atcha, Y/N,” Sam said softly in your ear, causing shivers to fall down your spine.

You looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes before he kissed your cheek sweetly.  “Until tomorrow, Y/N,” he said, winking at you as he walked out of the front, dropping a couple dollars on the counter.

“See you tomorrow, Sam,” you replied, smiling, even though he could no longer hear you.  You were suddenly very interested in your job at the grocery store.


End file.
